


One Second

by spraypaintedgold



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: M/M, Tronnor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-05
Updated: 2015-10-10
Packaged: 2018-04-19 06:30:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 4,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4735967
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spraypaintedgold/pseuds/spraypaintedgold
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which I capture moments from their lives.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Only Fools (Try Not To) Fall

**Author's Note:**

> (listening to Fools while listening to this ain't a bad idea)

Connor lies his head on my shoulder, scrunching his fingers on my lap. They slide over my jeans softly, he just cut his nails last night. He's wearing my shirt with the sleeves that are way too long, with the ghost white fabric that shows his skin, and the splotches of blue paint on the front. He smells like french pressed coffee, mint Colgate toothpaste, that green  _clean earth_  shampoo, and my Ralph Lauren Red. I gaze around the room, semi-embarrassed by all the desires I find.  As I look at the bookshelf, I catch which novels I want to pass down to our kids, and what music I want to play at our wedding.

My heart is leaping out of my skin as I drag the cursor up and click play. This is exactly how Olly Alexander told me he felt when he showed  _Shine_  to Neil.  _My_  boyfriend's not a musician too, but that doesn't mean my nerves aren't completely wrecked. Please like it.  _Please_.

Connor smiles in support, moving to touch his lips against the skin above my collar bone.

A bit after the opening piano chords sing into the air, he grips my thigh and holds his breath just slightly. "You sound wonderful." Escapes from between his teeth, sewed into a quiet gasp.

" _I see swimming pools, and living rooms, and airplanes. I see a little house on the hill and children's names. I see quiet nights, poured over ice, and Tanqueray._ "

Connor grins, threading our fingers together. "You know I love it."

And then he is silent mostly, eager to hear exactly how everything sounds. He bobs his head, chin tipping down with every build of the beat. Connor's lost in  _my_ music.

" _Only fools fall for you. Only fools. Only fools do what I do._ " 

He smiles. "Only fools, huh?"

It makes me want to throw up rainbows and write more songs.  

"I'm the most foolish of them all." I bury my face in his neck.

" _You like stick and I like aerosol_." My voice sings, unknowing of the impact it will hold on future-Connor.

"You know it's still in early stages, Con, but-"

" _Don't give a fuck about giving up, I still want it all._ "

He can't help but burst at that. Connor's grinning a stupid smile, and there's gleaming tears in the creases below his eyes.

"Don't cry, babe-"

"I love you so much." He says, tentatively and slow at first, but soon quiet and fast as the sentiment is partially lost in my mouth. His hand slides up to my neck, the sound laying nicely over my voice chorusing " _Only fools_." Over and over again.

"I love you too." I whisper against his lips, pushing the laptop to my left side.


	2. "What are you doing? I love it."

Troye curses, earning only a non-sympathetic laugh from me.

I nudge him with the bottom of my right foot as I lay on the opposite side of the couch. "What, babe?"

"I nearly put in my credit card number wrong."

"Smooth. Remind me again why you're allowed to have one. Don't you have to be a legal adult?"

"Oh, really? I didn't know. How'd you manage to snag one, then?"

I laugh in defeat.

"Winner gets a kiss." He smiles devilishly.

"Maybe later."

" _Later_?" He winks.

"Go back to buying your duvet cover, hot shot." I begin to grin as I formulate a small plan. I reach over to my laptop, hovering a finger over the trackpad. I whip out Snapchat and hold it steady, focusing on Troye's face. I click play, and Troye turns to me with a confused expression when the kids' backup vocals to Wild ring in the air.

I quickly hit record just in time.

"What are you doing?" He asks in a baby voice. "I love it."

I giggle quietly, zooming in on his face. I stop the video and add it to my story.

"Are you  _Snapchatting_?" He giggles.

" _Was_." I correct.

"Promote Wild." He adds without looking twice at me.

"Already on it."

"We have  _two_  winners tonight."

"Kiss me."

"C'mere." He makes grabby hands at me, pulling my waist towards him as he sets his card and laptop down.

"We're going somewhere, don't get too crazy." I laugh as his hand slides down my back.

"Of course." He choruses back, though he takes that opportunity to slip his tongue into my mouth.


	3. Let's Pretend

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *taking place in the time of their relationship RIGHT before they started to be practically inseparable. Like September-ish 2014.

I've never felt tears of anger before, or tears of hatred, and certainly neither relating to Troye.

"It hurts so bad." He sobs into his knees, covering his face with his ragged wool sweater and hiding from me. "I want to be with you."

"Hey. Hey." I soothe, ignoring the rage at the universe bubbling inside of me and trying to somehow concile a boy who's over 5,000 miles away.

Troye only responds with sniffles and a shake of the head while he presses his eyes further into his arms.

The screen makes me feel braver. "It's so fucking hard, Tro. I know. I want to be there, and make sure that you're not alone. I don't want to be the reason why you cry. Look at me, please."

He bats his eyes open, face red. Troye mumbles a sorry before getting up to snag a Kleenex box.

"Don't apologize. I miss you too, babe." There's a pool of tears on my bed sheet below me. "I'll see you soon. And I'll travel across the world for you, you know that. We can do this."

He nods, refusing eye contact as tears start spilling out of him again. He's choking on saliva, and there's snot running down his face. He groans. "I'm so gross." Before continuing to cry into a tissue.

"Don't talk about yourself like that. Please look at me."

"I never thought I would need someone this much. I'm so disappointed in myself. I love you, but I don't want to need you, Connor."

"You don't need me. You're brilliant, you're so talented. God, if I hadn't stolen the chance to meet you as some dorky YouTuber from Minnesota while you were a rising star, you'd probably be dating Zac Efron in a couple years."

He smiles for a half second. "You're better than Zac Efron, Con." His eyes widen, and he giggles. "And Harry Styles, and Liam Hemsworth, and Tom Daley..."

"Thank you. Point is, you don't  _need_  me. All these things you do, you do yourself. You don't need me, you  _chose_ me. And I chose you. That's how I know you love me. I haven't been writing your songs, I haven't been thinking up your video ideas. But sometimes you write about me. And it could be anyone, but  _you_  make it about me. That's all you, love."

"But you're the love, the initial energy, you know. It's embarrassing and dangerous, but you're like  _a part_ of me. I trust you." He wipes away the remnants of tears.

"Let's pretend," I begin, "That I'm with you. I'd listen to music with you in the car, volume up, windows down, and not give a care in the world as to who's listening to my Spotify playlist. I'll hold your hand backstage, and I'll hold it on stage if we ever want. I'll kiss you on the plane, when it's nothing close to night but they shut the lights off so we don't get jetlagged."

"I'll sing you a song I'm not sure is any good, but I do it because you'll like it anyway. I'll read snippets of your book when you think I'm not looking and pretend to be able to cook three seconds before I hand you the pan. I'll watch you snap a picture on your phone and lean over your shoulder to watch the magic happen. I'll tell you I love you."

"I love you too. And I'll stay until you want me to leave." I whisper, watching as he rests his head on a pillow and shuts his eyes.


	4. Game Night

"This is so stupid." Troye pretends to whine, knocking his head back in laughter as I connect four, yet again.

"You only think that because I'm winning." I tease, dumping the tokens out and dividing them between us again.

"Con, if this is game night," A mischievous smile jumps onto his lips. "We should play GTA." Troye turns away to reach back for his laptop, and I smack him lightly on the hand.

"Hey, no!  _Bad_  boy." I chastise.

He rolls his eyes lightly, then grins as an idea pops into his mind. Troye begins to suck on his fingers in false sultry and climbs into my lap, releasing a fake moan. " _Won't you play with me_?" He whispers into my ear.

I giggle, gently pushing him off me. "Seducing me won't help your case, love."

"What do I have to do?" He asks the air in exasperation.

"Bake for me."

"Do I look like the Cake Boss? That's not even possible."

"Too bad." I laugh again, pulling out my phone to check Twitter. " _Magic words_ , Troye Sivan."

"Come on."

"Nope."

"Just this once."

"Try again."

" _Please-_ "

"Nuh-uh."

"Fine. I give up. But only because I love you."

"Of course I'll play with you!" I grin, clapping my hands together and springing upwards to boot up the game.

"W-what?"

" _Three magic words_." I say, counting off my fingers.

"You are literally seven."

"And you're five. I win."

He sticks out his tongue, but smiles against my lips as I click on co-op mode.

"You're a #ledge, Con!"

"Don't make me shut this off."

 


	5. Baby

Troye wakes up with a hoarse voice and a fresh pair of pyjamas on. Connor must have dressed him when he came back from the studio last night, nearly passed out.

Connor's in the kitchen cooking breafast when he finds him.

"Good morning, baby." Troye says, pressing a kiss to Connor's forehead.

Connor laughs, returning the greeting, before curiously asking, "Why do you call me that?"

"Because you're my baby." Troye responds, hugging Connor from behind and hooking his chin over Connor's shoulder.

"That can't possibly be true. You're  _my_  baby." Connor retaliates, pressing a surprise-attack kiss to Troye's cheek.

Troye moves in for the kiss, and Connor laughs against his lips, crinkling his nose.

"Go brush your teeth."

"Fine! I will do that." Troye starts for the bathroom. "I love you."

"I love you too." Connor says, returning to the pancakes.

"Really."

"Me too."

Troye smiles a bright smile, ducking into the bathroom after commenting. "...baby."

"God damn it." Connor mutters with a sincere smile.

 


	6. Rooftop Bar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess whether they're talking about Kian or JC XD

His skin is soft against my hand, spine jutting out slightly against my palm as he sways to the beat. We're surrounded by velvet black pumps, short blue dresses, and lots of alcohol. My ears hurt from the beat, I've had enough synth in my head from the studio to last me days. There's hands slipping under shirts, tongues left and right, and winks from near-strangers when Connor's hands squeeze my upper thigh. Random girls at the bar, I don't need your approval to have sex with my boyfriend, thank you very much.

Neither of us are drunk, though we can't say the same for the other former-O2L boys. Renting out a whole rooftop bar for one and one hundred, just to forget it all the next day.

I shake my head, laughing. "It's his birthday, he can get hammered as long as Ricky'll take him home."

Connor nods, spinning in front of me and lulling his head from side to side. He tugs my hand and begins to walk forward towards the thin glass balcony that separates us from the 19-floor drop.

I reach out for him, pressing my fingers to the space above his hip and resting my thumbs against his back. "Don't go too far, Con."

"I won't." He reassures, tiptoe-ing closer with my hands gripping his waist. Connor looks out at the city, squinting at the fog of downtown L.A. and spotting the Grove soon after. "This is how birds see the world, Tro."

"Not all birds, love."

"Yeah, but some." He insists, tripping forward slightly as he moves.

"Wow," I laugh, pulling him against my chest. "Careful there."

"Thanks. Jesus  _Christ_." He sighs, backing away slowly. "I'm glad they rented the whole thing out."

"Why?"

"'Cause if we were acting like this in front of fans, my Twitter would be crashing right now." He grins against my lips.

"You ever wonder what it would be like to have sex in the sky?" I mumble against his jaw, tracing lovehearts on his back.

His breath hitches as my fingers rake down from his shoulder blades to the small of his back. "Shut up. Save it for later, Mr." He blushes, pulling away from my bottom lip and laying his head against my chest. He pulls me into a hug, eyes shut against my shirt. "Sometimes I find it hard to believe that someone like you exists. You're incredible. And you think I'm incredible... It's just all,  _wow_."

"Me too, love. Me too." I reply, caressing his back with my hand.

He leans his head up, shining those emerald eyes straight at me. Connor's so hopeful.

I love him so much.

"Really?"

"Yes." I kiss into his forehead.

 


	7. Will You...

I'm lying with my head facing the ceiling, laying my head in Troye's lap as we watch netflix and chill.

(Really.)

My phone is at my feet, and Troye's mindlessly tracing his fingers up and down my arm while keeping his gaze locked on the screen.

He pops his jaw and I laugh when he winces at the sound.

The theme for "Here Comes The Bride" rings through the air, and I roll my eyes to the side to look at the screen.

"Weddings are so cheesy." I say, but he smirks at me.

"Con, you're a hopeless romantic. You want the whole nine yards. Nice suits. sunny days- lots of plants- you don't need a village but you want everyone you care about to be there. You care about the music that plays and what color the napkins will be, and hey, maybe table 27 is too close to table 26 and it's ruining your aesthetic. We can't have that now, can we? So we'll move it."

I grin up at him. "Did you just say we?"

"I mean, like hypothetical we." He laughs, shyly. "Well, like,  _will you?_..."

"Will I what?"

"Will you marry me?" Troye blushes, hiding his face. "I mean, will we marry each other?" He groans. "I'm digging a hole for myself."

"In addition to those lovely implements you just described, I want to have a bottle of specific champagne available to each legal table. I want flowers- sunflowers. I'd have to like the cutlery, and the centerpieces should all be at my standard. I think there's scarves I want draped across each table. If we can decorate the space, I want to hang up photographs. Probably copies of all your album art too. But at the end of the day all of those things are superficial and there is absolutely nothing more that I would want than to see you there, wearing whatever you are, and knowing that you love me. Not because marriages and all the binding contracts or whatever, but because you want to stand there with me, because you're proud of me, and-"

"I will." He says. "Sorry that I interrupted, but I will. I want that with you, the marriage, the four kids in the medium-sized house, grocery shopping, helping part of the next generation discover their passions. It's all so exciting, and in my mind, you fit with that picture. It's bizarre for a 22 and 20 year old to have these thoughts only 10 or so months in, but I feel these things very strongly."

"I know." I push off the couch and sit. "You're intuitive, a little more so than I, but I have those feelings too. So for now, I think marriage is a safe assumption for the future?"

"Netflix and chill, more like netflix and spill, am I right?" Troye giggles.

I grin up at my dork of a future husband.

 


	8. I Win

"Yeah." Connor laughs into the phone while eyeing me. "I've got a tiny little boy named Troye with me right now."

I roll my eyes, returning to an email from Emma. Until...

"Oh, no, it's fine. He just left."

I squint my eyes at him.  _I'm right here._

He blushes, turning away from me. "He's so adorable. And I've told you loads of times, I adore the Mellets. They treat me like  _family_. It's really good, Alli."

Silence, as Connor paces about the room. "I'm incredibly-  _unbelievably_ \- happy with him. He's not really a part of me, so much as a person who works so well with me. In every sense of existing, we can do it together. And all our moments are so precious, even if scarce- although, let's be honest, at least half of the Connor Franta Travel Fund is flying out to destination: Troye Sivan." He looks me in the eye, and bites his lip. "The way he makes me feel is unlike anything you could ever imagine."

Oh, this game again.  _Outrageous_.

"It's not fairytale, but it's very heavy, and there. It's comforting, and wise, but also very silly and whimsical. I could never expect a  _Troye_ in my life, but I wouldn't have it any other way. I love him, I can say it a million times, and every time I say it I'm purely-  _honest to God_ \- serious. I don't throw it around to decorate my sentences. I say it as a full complete statement that embodies all that I feel for him."

I hear a faint laugh on the other end.

"No, my darling is sitting right in front of me." He smiles softly while teasing, before nodding okay to whatever she's saying. He hangs up, and sits beside me. "Alli asked about you."

"Uh huh, you're coming with me." I state, yanking him up by the arm.

He yelps in confusion as I drag him to the family room.

Holding his arm firmly as we stand above Sage, my father, and Tyde, I clear my throat.

Sage giggles, Tyde rolls his eyes, and my dad just looks rather amused.

"This is my boyfriend. His name is Connor Joel Franta. He's gorgeous. Every physical aesthetic aspect of him is a work of art to me, but his mind is far more complex and beautiful than all the galaxies unknown and a string of unending numbers. I'm so glad I found him, so glad to love him and have him love me back. He's supportive of my success, while also being ambitious and thoughtful. He sees beauty in everything and has the ability to turn all details on their heads and morph them into intricate, elegant masterpieces. He is my baby. He makes mistakes, but he learns from them as do I. If you fuck him up I will make you suffer humane consequences, and there will be some aggressive tension. At first."

"My knight in shining armor." Connor chuckles.

"I'm not done." I defend, "I love you, you're amazing, and..." I press my lips to his, unable to contain my emotions at the current moment.

"And?" He smiles against my mouth.

"I win!" I thrust my arms in the air, as the rightful champion I am. "I have professed my love for you, adequately. 51-50."

"Now hold on," Dad begins. "I don't know about that. It was good and all, but..."

"But?" I sputter.

"The way he was looking at you through it all, that deserves a tie."

I pout, crossing my arms and collapsing onto the armchair, beside Sage.

"I thought it was good, Tro." Sage laughs.

"Doesn't cheesy win? Troye is the world record holder." Tyde jabs.

"Hey now."

Connor smiles, leaning down to kiss my forehead. "I think you're a winner."

"Thanks, babe."

"Connor wins." My dad coughs.

"YES! HA! I win." Connor grins.

"I just- I-  _wow_."

 


	9. Hey

"Hey." Troye says as we turn the corner. He cranks my Spotify casual playlist to one notch and watches me with a quick sweep of the eyes.

"Hey." I reply, observing the way his lips curl up into a smile and how fluid his hands move around the steering wheel.

"I love you." He grins, letting pride swallow him whole.

"Me too. I guess that's what we have in common." I smirk in an excessive manner, leaning over and kissing him on the cheek.

"Hey, hey, we don't want you to get us a ticket." He chastises, turning his shoulder away from me.

I laugh, rubbing the spot along my chest where my seat belt dug into. "You're not exactly letting the horses run." Connor Franta, the master of the bluff. (I would never go 5 miles over.)

"I am so tempted to right now, so hush child."

"Speaking of children..."

He pokes his tongue out at me, scrunching together his sweater-covered shoulders and threatening to change the song.  _Wild_ comes on, so he decides not to. Cute. 

"Where are we going?"

"Oh.  _Oh right_."

"You forgot." I deduce, giggling quietly.

" _No_ , just didn't...  _remember_." He fumbles for words, slowly dying out into a whisper.

"I love you so much, you  _Fool_." I tease.

"Trademark, Troye Sivan 2015, from the hit EP- Wild released September 2015. All rights reserved to EMI Music Australia." He trails with a completely straight face.

"Ah, yes." I run my fingers up Troye's arm, in a calming fashion. I feel his body heat radiating through the layers. It makes me feel at  _Ease_. 

My own stupid inner conscience is smitten with Troye's music.

Troye erupts into a screech, nearly causing me to jerk my elbow into his face.

"CEREAL." He suddenly shrieks, swerving the car and barely making a right turn. 

"You nearly hit that bush." I point out, after the shrub is long gone behind us on our journey to the store.

"But I didn't! It's elementary, my dear."

"My dear Watson." I correct.

"No." He smiles. "My  _dear_."


	10. Wisdoms

My arm is falling asleep under him, my toes barely reach out of the blanket.

His fingers are pushing into my skin, holding me tight and close while he lays his head on my chest. His breathing is steady. We're swimming in rays of light, as close as two clothed bodies could be. His jacket is tickling my side and he can't stop nudging me with his feet.

"How are you, Troye boy?" I whisper down to him.

He rubs a thumb over my gray sweater, only shrugging before wincing.

"Hurts that much, huh?" I ask, running a hand over the back of his cotton T-shirt.

"Not too bad." He mutters, cheeks swollen.

"It's good though. Now you don't have to get them out when you're old."

"I guess." He reaches down for my waist, before undoing the buttons of my skinny jeans.

"What's happening?" I raise an eyebrow.

"Why would you be wearing jeans when you're going to spend all day cuddling me?"

I roll my eyes, then abide by kicking them to the floor.

Troye runs two fingers up the side of my thigh, stroking the fabric of my boxer-briefs. "See, softer." He wraps his arms around my neck, letting my hands support him as he curls into my chest.

I give him a quick kiss on the nose, then smile as we lie together.

"Oh..." Sage notes as she walks into the room.

Troye makes no move to acknowledge her, only mumbling, "What do you need?" into my shoulder.

"Was gonna ask if you need a pillow, but... I'll leave you alone, then?" Sage laughs, seeing as I've  _become_  the much needed cushion.


	11. Pride

"Tro," Connor mutters, nudging me under the sheets with the back of his heel.

I groan, blink my eyes open to see my boyfriend's bare back basking in the sunlight from the window, then close my eyes again. " _What_?"

"Do you- do you think..." I hear Connor shake his flat morning hair. "Never mind."

I frown, now fully awakened by Connor's worrying tone. I hang an arm over his chest and press my lips against Con's neck. "What, baby boy?"

"It's okay." Connor shrugs quietly, turning to face me and lightly pecking my forehead. "It's  _okay_." He insists, more to himself.

"Honey, tell me." I soothe, rubbing my thumb over the soft skin of his wrist.

"It's way too early for this." Connor chuckles and sits up slightly.

I rub the sleep out of my eyes and shake my head in adamant refusal. "S'never too early to make sure you're feeling okay."

Connor looks over at me with the same fond glint in his eye. "I love you."

"And I love you. What's  _wrong_?"

"Troye," He sighs, "What am I to be proud of? I'm not exactly waving around a rainbow flag like  _Tyler_ -"

"Babe, don't talk about him. Tyler, Korey, Michael, they're different, okay? You just came out a year ago. And you don't need to paint your face red, yellow, green, and blue to be someone worthy of pride."

"But I feel like I'm not doing enough for the LGBT community."

"Love, by being out, you are already helping a little bit. And LGBT+ issues aren't your full passion, that's okay. But you still make efforts, Con. And you save LGBTQIPA+ lives. So you should be proud."

Connor smiles bitter-sweetly, "I could use more education though."

"That's true." I nod. There's a lot he has to learn, and there's a lot I can learn too. "But you don't deny a first-grader pride on their maths test just because they can't do algebra."

"Did you just call me a six year old?"

"Pretty much."

Connor smiles softly, eyes wide and shimmering. He looks thoughtful, still, and beautiful.

The forever-falling-deeper-in-love trope is one we all laugh at until we're the ones holding the  _most wonderful person we've ever met_  in our arms. I will love him more than I'm supposed to, and it's bitter sometimes. But in the now, in the warm brushing of our skin against each other and the way he smiles with his posture, in the way we are happy together and how much of each other we understand and find comfort in, we are  _incredible_. "You are so artistic. You are kind. You are considerate. You are successful. You're humorous. You're thoughtful. You're lovely. Con, your family is  _proud_  of you. Heck,  _my_ family is proud of you. Our friends are ridiculously proud of you." I whisper and pull Connor to my chest. His hair tickles the underside of my chin. " _I'm_  proud of you, and you should be too."

" _Pride_." Connor sounds, feeling the word out in his mouth.

"Yeah." I peel back the covers and push Connor out of bed. "Do you feel it now, Mr. Franta?" I sing theatrically.

Connor giggles as I twirl him around like a magician in a musical.

"Watch how the rainbow confetti flies in the air, how we're surrounded by the magic of confidence! You, my dear, have brought the forest back to life!" I grin, holding him in my arms. We stand as if we're about to kiss in the rain, but instead in a bright, cozy apartment in Beverly Hills.

"Let me wear pants first, Troye Sivan Mellet."

"No need for  _pants_! Let's go make rainbow pancakes! You can be extra gay for one day." I kiss his jaw, earning a squirm-ish giggle.

"Okay, two corrections, baby.  _I'll_  make pancakes while you sit at the counter. And I am already  _extra_  gay for you." Connor grins against my lips.

I feel his hand sliding cheekily down my back. Okay,  _Franta_. "You taste like pride _._ " I hum back into his mouth.

"Oh my God, I would say you ruined the mood but I'm not sure there ever was one."

"Sure," I smirk as I feel him squeeze my waist and open his mouth to our kiss.

Purple pancakes will wait.

 


End file.
